The minute I stepped foot on that campus, I knew there was no going back. It was like stepping into a whole new world. I didn't know anyone and they didn't know me. I was no longer trapped by Summit or everything that happened there. Maybe I could finally make something of myself. Maybe I could honor Mom by mastering my art and painting the piece – her final dare before she died. The one that could save my life.
The School of the Art campus was abuzz as I wound my way through the throngs of freshman and returning students alike. Following the map in my hands, I found the dorm building and checked in with my RA. He assigned me a room and I set out to find it. Number 215.
Once there, I walked in and was immediately met by the guy who would by my roommate.
"I'm Jason," he said, holding out a hand. I shook it.
"Ezra."
"Nice to meet you, Ezzy-boy."
I cocked an eyebrow at him.
"No? Too soon?"
Laughing, I said, "Yeah, probably."
He plopped down on his bed. He's already claimed his half of the room. Posters of half-naked girls and WWE champions lined the walls. I plopped my suitcase on the bed opposite his and began unpacking.
"So, Ezra. Where you from?"
"Colorado. Only a few hours from here."
"Oh, nice! I love Colorado. Love the mountains and stuff."
"Yeah, it was... nice." I shoved the dresser drawer closed and began to make my bed.
"What brings you here?"
Boy, this guy asked a lot of questions. "I'm an art major."
"Okay, but what kind of art? You a theater major? Photographer? Actor?" He shifted in his seat excitedly. "Or a porn-star wannabe?"
I snorted a laugh. "Porn is hardly an art."
He shrugged. "Depends on which angle you're coming from."
"There's really just the one angle." I scrunched up my face, put off by the direction of the conversation. I wished I had my own room, but that's the price you pay for communal education.
He moved for the small fridge at the foot of his bed and produced two bottles of beer. "Want one?"
I shook my head. "Not really my thing. Thanks, though."
"Suit yourself." He took a long drink. "Dude, there's a party tonight. Sort of a rager to welcome all the freshman. You should come."
I sighed. "Again, not my thing."
Smirking, "Mmm... I think I can change that."
"I don't think so."
"We'll see, Ezra. We'll see."
YOU ARE READING
Every Bright and Broken Thing
Teen FictionSometimes things have to break just so they can be put back together - bigger, brighter, better. Both haunted by the last question their mother ever asked them before she passed away, the Greyson brothers and their father, a pastor, struggle to pull...
